Burning Skies
by HufflepuffFilth
Summary: Weirdmageddon: Year Four. Bill's overrun the planet, Gravity Falls is all but obliterated, and Gideon's been kicked out of the golden demon's favor. Fearing death, Gideon flees the forsaken town, only to stumble across the one person he never expected to see again. And he's not the anxious twelve-year-old he remembers anymore. "Grow up, Gideon. A little pain never killed nobody."
1. Chapter 1

**I keep coming up with ideas for fanfics when I really should be focusing more on ones I've already started...oh well, I'm pleasing myself.  
**

 **IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: This AU idea came from a Tumblr prompt; Murphy's Law AU where everything that could go wrong, does go wrong. Dipper never finds Wendy, Soos, Gideon, or Grunkle Stan, the barrier around Gravity Falls doesn't work, and Bill transports Mabel's prison to a vague point on the globe and Dipper spends all of his time traveling across the post-apocalyptic wasteland that is the world searching for her. **

**This is where my idea came from - though, my story does differentiate in that 1) Dipper isn't the point of view character 2) Since the story is from the point of view of Gideon, and Dipper is, in fact, in the tags for this fic, they do meet each other at some point. (Okay, in the first chapter just because no one wants to read filler chapters.)**

 **Now, obviously the idea of Gideon as a main character is totally strange - like, what? Who wants to read a story with Gideon. But that's precisely why I decided to write one! I feel like his character doesn't get enough credit...so I decided to give him some! I've never written Gideon before though, so I'm hoping that he doesn't feel way out of character or something. Certain attitude quirks will be explained within the story, for all characters.**

 **Finally, before I get into the story, I aged the characters up an additional four years so Gideon is fourteen, Dipper and Mabel sixteen, nearly seventeen, and so on and so on. The reason for this is that I needed to develop enough time for characters to have enough time for their mental habits to _actually_ change. It's unrealistic if they just change attitudes suddenly and out of the blue. This was mainly for Dipper's development away from Mabel more than anything else. (Also this fic is just to write him as a BAMF, because there isn't enough of those fics around.)  
**

 **ANYWAY. ONTO THE FIC.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

Gideon had made one big fat, gigantic mistake, and he only realized this after four years of being in Bill's service.

His mistake, of course, had been siding with Bill in the first place.

Now that wouldn't have been so bad if Bill hadn't decided that he and his henchmen had overstayed there welcome, after they'd proudly brought in that red head who worked at the Mystery Shack, Wendy. She'd fought tooth and nail, and even when she'd been turned into stone, her eyes had been filled with a fiery determination.

But he _had_ decided they weren't useful anymore. Now that there was only a handful of Gravity Falls citizens remaining, Bill had turned his attention on he and his band of ex-prisoners, saying that _they_ were Gravity Falls residents too, but that he'd 'give them a head start for being such good sports'

And that was why Gideon was currently running for his life from a gigantic eyebat. "Ghost Eyes! Ma hench-angel!" He shrieked as the large blind man shoved him under an old pick-up truck. He slapped a hand over his mouth as Ghost Eyes feet turned to stone, shimming further underneath the truck when the red beam nearly hit his arm.

Yes. He'd made a mistake making a deal with Bill. He should have known that he'd twist it for his own benefit – he was a _demon_ , after all. The words 'don't trust' was practically in the name.

But he had, and now all of his henchmen, hench-angel included, were being flown straight back to that forsaken pyramid they'd all run so hard from. All in the name of protecting him.

Gideon's fingers twirled around the key at his neck, the one with the shooting star printed across it. He wondered if maybe it was fake, if everything Bill had told him, _given_ him, had been some fabricated lie to get him on his side.

His hand clenched into a fist around the key, nails biting into his palm. His teeth gnashed hard, face flushed with anger. He was done being scared of a…of a _tortilla chip_ (boy did that feel good to say). He'd get his revenge. Bill Cipher wasn't going to be the warden of _him._ Not anymore.

* * *

Traveling was the hardest part. He didn't know other towns like he knew Gravity Falls, but it wasn't safe for him there. The further he got, the safer he'd be. Most of Bill's minions were centered around Gravity Falls for the mean time, until the demon had conquered the small town. His thoughts drifted back to his family, their stone bodies fused together to make Bill's gigantic throne.

Had they really meant so little to him before?

He missed Sunday roasts, and mint chocolate chip ice cream.

His stomach gurgled.

Gideon sighed, touching his hair. It was starting to fall limp now, so every so often he had to push it back up from falling into his eyes. His eyes passed a sign that said _Bend, Oregon._ The words 'No Survivors' was sprayed over top.

Although Bill's eyeball bats were fewer here, the weirdness he'd brought with him certainly hadn't stayed in Gravity Falls. Craning his neck, he could see a house running away on strange dog-like legs, the ceiling unlatching to let out a barking sound. Picking his way through the streets, Gideon decided his first course of action was to deal with his gnawing stomach. He walked quickly past fallen down telephone lines, jumped across exposed wire, and tried a door handle.

The door swung open at his fingertips.

Part of his brain said this was stupid, and that he was better than this – that he should just go back to Bill and demand he stop twisting up their deal. But survival was more forceful in his head, screaming that he was going to get ripped apart if he did go back. So he went inside the house instead.

"It's okay stomach, ya'll gonna get fed real soon," he said as he scurried into the kitchen, throwing open the cabinets.

His shoulders slumped at the emptiness within it.

"Nothin'? But…but there's gotta be _somethin'…"_ He opened cupboard after cupboard, drawer after drawer. And still nothing.

"No! No this ain't…this ain't fair!" He whined, stamping his foot angrily against the floorboards.

A low growling froze him to the floor.

He shouldn't have done that.

The hard wooden door across from him starting banging loudly, a blood-thirsty gurgling sound exploding out of the growl.

And then the door splintered, a huge, red claw striking through the gap to tear the door from the hinges.

Gideon wasted no time in getting the _hell out of there._

He scrambled back out of the kitchen and down the entrance hall, tripping over his own feet as he went. Stumbling, he managed to make it outside just as the…the _whatever it was_ , burst out of the room. He didn't bother looking to see what it was exactly, because the gurgling sound was getting closer and _oh no he was going to die wasn't he?_

"Somebody help me!" He shouted out as he tore down the street, beet red in the face and puffing like he'd been running a two-day marathon. "Anybody!?"

Gideon yelped as a claw dug into his hair, tearing a large chunk of it out. "Ow! My hair!" He panicked as he skidded into an alleyway, hand's over the torn out area. It felt like his whole body was on fire, but like the back of his head had been drenched in acid.

Foot catching on a rock, he tumbled out the other side of the alleyway, finally turning to face the predator that was only a step behind him.

Pure dread trickled through his veins. The beast looked like some sort of twisted, deformed cat. It looked like it had been turned inside out – it's body red and raw, exposed muscles rippling across it's body. Organs twisted across it's body. Gideon swallowed thickly, feeling his panic rising as his eyes fell on a pumping heart. The things claws were sharpened katana blades, strong enough to balance the monsters weight on just it's paws alone.

He felt the urge to scream.

Desperately, he wished he still had some of the pages from the destroyed journals – anything would be better than nothing, surely.

An odd purring sound met his ears, the beast licking it's chops like he was a pig on a spit.

Gideon squeezed his eyes shut, fingers knotting around the key at his neck.

But the blow never came.

Instead, there was a loud _bang_ , a strange whizzing sound slicing through the air, and then a huge _thump_ as the monster fell to the ground.

When he peeked an eye open, the killer cat had fallen to the ground, a bullet embedded in it's visible, no longer beating, heart.

"Ah!" He shouted out, scrambling backwards away from the oozing blood. His head whipped around for the assailant. A blur of an image met his eyes.

Footsteps stopped in front of him, and he was about to get up and demand some help, but the now _very intimidating_ gun was leveled at him.

"Gideon Gleeful," a voice from beneath a hood said. Gideon froze where he stood. The voice did not sound friendly, though it did sound intrigued. It was a voice he could _swear_ he'd heard before, but… _where?_ "Just what on earth are _you_ doing here, of all places?"

"I don't need to tell you anythin'!" He bit out vehemently.

The figure bent down so they were at eye level, and his breath felt like it had been torn straight from his lungs.

Those brown eyes were just like his Mabel's – only more intense. Darker. Angrier.

"D-Dipper Pines?" He choked out in surprised. "You're still...?"

"Alive?" Dipper finished slyly as he pushed the gun heavily against the side of his head. The metal felt cold against his skull, but it was nothing compared to the fifty pound weights piling up in his gut. He didn't miss the terrifying grin that crossed Dipper's face. "I'd apologize…but scum like you doesn't deserve to be treated like a person. In fact…"

Dipper was standing not a moment later, retreating backwards severely steps. Before he even had a chance to react, to even shout, 'no', the gun went off and a pain so _so_ much worse than having his hair ripped out had blown into his leg. He crumpled over, curling into a ball and shouting out a short scream. A hand grabbed him roughly, dumping him over his shoulder.

Dipper patted his shoulder gently. "Why don't you get some rest, Gideon? We can talk soon."

And Gideon was out like a light.

* * *

 **So...first chapter, done! I have a few different chapters and scenes written up at the moment, but I need to unjumble them and all. This fic is kind of a broach into unfamiliar territory...I've only really written from Dipper (and sorta Mabel's perspectives) before, and I'm not sure I've got a good grip on Gideon's character at the moment.  
**

 **Reviews would be awesome - if people are keen on this, I'll keep going. If not, well, I guess I'll see!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Right, here we go! I was actually surprised at the amount of reception this got...I didn't really think Gideon was that popular of a character, and so people would kind of veto this fic because of it - but hey, I was proved wrong! So, I'm going to continue this story until I have written the final chapter and pushed post!  
**

 **So, how about that finale huh? Very intense. I enjoyed it very much (I've watched it quite a few times now!) - but I digress, I should really get onto the story, shouldn't I?**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited the first chapter! I appreciate it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls, though I really can't complain too much because if it WAS mine everything would be totally _totally_ messed. Up.**

* * *

Gideon awoke with a painful whine. A hive of hornets buzzed in his leg, and when he rest his hand down to touch the injury, a sharp hiss tore from his mouth. His hand came away red. Eyes sliding open, he warily looked around the room he was in. The walls, floor, and ceiling were covered in cold concrete. He spotted a toilet, and stairs leading to a door. If he listened closely enough, he could hear footsteps walking above, the quiet murmurs of voices barely breaking past the cement.

And when he sniffed, he smelt _food_.

Gaze snapping across to the plate on the ground next to him, he felt his mouth begin to water. He twitched sideways, finally hearing a creak and realizing he was on a bed. The blankets were thin, the mattress springs poking into his back, but he wasn't sleeping on the floor. At least _someone_ had the decency to take care of him.

Careful to keep his injured leg still, he scrabbled at the ground for the sandwich. "Ah!" He said with relish as he finally captured it in his grip.

It was gone in seconds. He made sure to get every single crumb off of his fingers.

"Good. You're awake."  
Gideon turned his head quickly, hearing a strange _crick_ in his neck from moving to fast. He hadn't even heard the door to what he assumed was the basement open, but her certainly saw Dipper standing and blocking the stairway.

Gideon bristled immediately. "You! You _shot_ me!"

"Enjoyed it, too," he replied nastily, lip curling. "Would have shot you in the head if I didn't think you had something to tell me."

"I don't know who you think you're messin' with, boy-" He hissed, shoulders tensing tight.

"On the contrary, Gideon," Dipper cut across him, walking closer to the bed. " _You_ seem not to understand the predicament you're in. _You_ have been shot in the leg, and I can move perfectly fine. _You_ have no weapons, and I have _more than enough to tear you to pieces. You_ have no power. Can you guess who does?"

The older teenager glowered down at him. Against the darkness of his prison cell (was he destined to live his entire life behind bars?), Dipper's eyes looked shadowed, the brown black, the white gray. " _So why don't you rephrase your question."_ One hand gripped into his hair, at the base where the monster had torn at it, and _pulled._ "Because you don't know who _you're_ messing with."

Gideon glared hard at Dipper, even as the back of his head burned. His body didn't know whether to scream about the pain in his leg or the now more prudent stinging of his head. Dipper just stared him dead in the eye, his hand slowly getting tighter, tugging harder.

"Okay, okay, I'll…I'll talk! Just let ma hair go!" He finally broke. Dipper's hand released, and he stepped away from the bed. He smiled thinly at Gideon, but he saw no warmth or kindness in it. Only a quiet fury. " _So,"_ Dipper said, reaching into his pocket. His breath drew in as he saw the golden key dangle from one finger by the chain. His hand reached up to his neck, grasping at bare air.

"Give that back!" He started with growing horror. _Mabel's key!_

"Not until you tell me what you know," he replied, swinging the key idly back and forth, a pendulum swinging.

"About _what?"_ Of course he knew what, and the livid expression that spread from Dipper's eyes and across his face said as much.

"Don't play dumb with me, Gideon!" He said lowly, something in the back of his voice shaking. He swung the key back up, closing his fist around it. His brows drew down hatefully. " _Tell me. TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"_

Gideon felt his senses drain for just a moment, feeling the color drain from his face. Seething, Dipper's leg lifted, the heel of his shoe crashing down into the wound in his knee. A wave of nausea crashed through him, eyes bugging.

He didn't bother to muffle his scream.

 _"Jesus! You psycho, what the heck is wrong with you!?"_

Dipper's voice had lowered again, but somehow that was worse. Tumultuous anger he could understand, but when he spoke again, it was with a dispassionate sort of detachment. Dead, or at the very least, dying.

"You think I haven't been looking for her, Gideon?" He said quietly. Gideon couldn't see his face, because he was looking down at the heel of his shoe, digging it in harder. His breath came out in a squeak, eyes squeezing shut as another bout of sickness hit him. He could feel sticky blood clotting in the wound, and when he opened his eyes again, he felt the sandwich he'd just eaten threatening to come back up.

He'd never seen so much blood come from his own body.

"You think I haven't spent every single day wondering if she was still alive? Every single day wondering if I'm too late? Because I have." Dipper continued, eyes lifting finally, and Gideon swallowed at the expression he saw in them – or lack thereof. "And here you are…Bill Cipher's feared lieutenant…responsible for leading millions of people to their deaths." He dragged his shoe off of the wound. Gideon muffled the noise of pain into the back of his throat. No way was he giving Dipper the satisfaction. "So the way I see it," he murmured, kneeling down and picking up the plate the sandwich had been on. The little chain of the key slipped between his fingers as he held the plate, the metal and ceramic going _tink_ against one another. "I should have no qualms with giving you a little taste of your own medicine, if that is what it comes to…though I'd prefer not to. I'm not a monster, after all." He stood back up. "Make this easy for yourself, Gideon, and just tell me what this key is all about."

Hands clenched into fists, Gideon turned his head away from Dipper to stare at the ceiling. On one hand, it wasn't like he owed Bill anything anymore. On the other, he really didn't want to be making any dealings with Dipper, either.

Dipper sighed heavily from beside him, and a hand clapped down against Gideon's shoulder.

"You can't play good _and_ bad cop, Pines, that's not how it works!" He spit out. When he turned his head to look up at him, he noted the twist to his mouth, how drawn down it was.

"Just shut up for a second, okay?" He replied, voice quiet. "Just…think about this for a few minutes; is this really what you want?"

"What sorta question is that?"

"Do you _want_ Bill to take over the world? Do you really _want_ him to win?"

Gideon gnawed at his lip. "Well…"

"No. That's what I thought. So why are you _letting_ him? Why are you _working_ with him?"

"Well…that's because…I…" He was beginning to feel uncomfortable – though that could have just been because of the pain shooting up his leg where he'd been shot.

"This key…" Dipper stared at it for a moment. She's locked up somewhere, isn't she?"

Gideon didn't reply. He didn't have too, because Dipper was already speaking again. "Do you _want_ to have Mabel locked up in a cage for the rest of eternity? She's a free spirit. She likes dance parties and being with her friends and being her own person. You didn't like being a prisoner, so why are you doing the same to her?"

The traitorous part of his head told him that Dipper was right.

"So if you're doing all this for Mabel…please reconsider. I'm not the enemy here. I'm not the one keeping her imprisoned. _You know_ who is." His hand slipped off of his shoulder, and his gaze drifted down to the red stain slowly spreading across his pants leg. "I'll go get some bandages and things…be right back."

He turned away and retreated up the stairs. The door slammed shut behind him with a deep _thud._

Dipper Pines...was very confusing.

He _hated_ confusing.

* * *

 **What? I actually put up another chapter quickly for once? Well, never fear, because you might even get another one before the week is up if I can get my butt to work instead of lazing around (though the next chapter is actually almost finished so it's really only a matter of editing stuff).  
**

 **Any who, I've kind of got a rough outline of how long this fic will be; relatively short, maybe twenty chapters, tops? Depends, I suppose.**

 **Well, until next time, I love reading your reviews and I love replying to them. (Though I'm completely useless most of the time, I _do_ reply eventually!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there, I'm back with another chapter!  
**

 **I have a question for you all; would you prefer shorter chapters more often, or longer chapters less often? At the moment I'm trying to put one up every few days, about a thousand words each. After this fic is done, I usually go back and put chapters together so I can make them longer, but for now this is the length they're gonna be. But it's up to you guys what you'd like to see from me, so feel free to message me and tell me!**

 **I'm really loving all the reviews and such, how you are all enjoying the story so far! Please, keep telling me your thoughts and such!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

Dipper Pines had changed since the start of Weirdmageddon, Gideon was starting to notice. A lot. The boy wasn't an anxious mess like he'd once been – in fact, Gideon would hasten to say he looked dangerous. His face had this look about it, one that said, 'I'll rip out your throat and shit down your neck if you make one wrong move.' His eyebrows were almost permanently drawn down in a frown, eyes deep set and hardened. His mouth had an odd twitch to it, like he was trying to stay as impassive as possible, though his face was trying to fight into a scowl. Gideon felt envious of the fact that he'd shot up to six feet, while he was only just passing the five foot mark.

Dipper slammed the door shut behind him as he made his way downstairs, making him jump a little. It sent a hard throb through his leg. The war for schooled features had lost, it seemed, because the older teens mouth was pulled down with such ferocity that Gideon was ready for him to come and bite his arm off.

"So are you gonna fix ma leg then?" He asked after a moment, hand pressed over the wound in his leg.

Dipper paused at the bottom of the stairs, a pile of rags in his arms. _"Clearly,"_ he said dryly.

"Well hurry up, then," he couldn't help but bite out.

 _"Shut up. Do you_ want _me to turn you into a paraplegic?"_ Dipper asked rhetorically.

Gideon fell silent. Yes, this boy – no, not a boy anymore – was a far cry from the twelve year old he'd fought so readily all those years ago.

Dipper's broad shoulders hunched defensively as he made his way over to him, narrowed eyes never leaving his face. Gideon squeezed his eyes shut to try fend off the throbbing in his leg.

A few moments later, the bed had dipped down and Dipper was dropping the rags on the covers. He unrolled them, revealing a roll of bandages and a set of tweezers inside. Gideon made a light squealing sound as Dipper snatched a knife from a sheath on his thigh, spinning it so he was holding the handle loosely in his grasp. "Stay still," he ordered, his free hand gripping his shoulder. His tone was cold. "You move an _inch_ and I shoot your goddamn brains out. Clear?"

Despite the wound in his leg, Gideon felt in him the desire to argue. "You wouldn't," he tried, scrabbling for some sort of defense. Dipper released him. Hard metal between his eyebrows certainly stopped any arguments on his part.

 _"Try me."_

Gideon stiffened at the soft click of the gun, staring at Dipper. Their eyes didn't waver for a few moments, angry, if a little fearful blue on cool dispassionate brown. But then Dipper blinked and the stand-off was broken. After some time, he pulled the gun away, putting it back in his jacket, or at least, the holster Gideon was now sure was hidden there. No way he could have gotten it out that fast otherwise.

Quickly, Dipper took the knife and pressed it against his leg, just above the dried red of the injury, and cut away the fabric. Gideon gripped the blanket under him in one tightly clenched fist. Dipper sawed through it roughly until he could rip the last of it away with his hand. He slashed it in half down the middle so it fell away from his leg. Dipper tossed the knife back into the sheath on his leg, yanking the fabric from under his leg. The piece of material went around his leg, above the bullet protruding from the wound. Dipper crossed the two ends, tightening them around his leg. Gideon fought back a wince, face twisting at the strange feeling. He wanted to ask what Dipper was doing, but a quick glance at the peek of metal from under his jacket decided that maybe right now wasn't the best time.

"This is gonna hurt," Dipper said, and before Gideon could register just _what the heck he was going to do,_ tweezers had dug into the skin around the bullet, grabbed hold, and then Gideon's leg wasn't just on fire, it was like it had been dunked straight into a vat of pure boiling _hell._

His cry started as a gentle whine, before turning into a sharp noise of pain as the offending metal was pulled out. He couldn't stop the hunching of his body, coiling over as tremors rocketed through his system, a sob ripping from his throat. His head fell into Dipper's arm, and with an annoyed scoff, the older teen was grabbing him by his hair, yanking him backwards and away from him. He gripped Gideon's leg hard, nails biting into the exposed skin as he began winding the bandage over the bleeding injury. The fabric from his pants leg was loosened every so slightly, and he felt blood flow back into the appendage. It didn't take long for the bandage to slowly turn red.

"Oh, get _over_ it," Dipper snapped at him as he stood up, staring down at Gideon. His head was tilted up, though he glared down at him. He felt small – smaller – under Dipper's glare. Like he was dirt. Filth. He didn't think anyone other than Bill had ever made him feel so utterly _pathetic._ Pathetic was…pathetic was, well _pathetic._ "A little pain never hurt anybody."

"What in God's name happened to you, Pines?" Gideon spit out, holding his hand to the bandages.

That gun was pointed at him again, and Dipper's teeth were clenched so tight he could almost imagine them cracking within his mouth. _"The Dipper Pines you knew is dead, Gideon"_ he stated. Gideon watched him, bracing his arm behind him on the bed, pupils like quarters. The barrel of the gun hit his head hard, and Dipper punctuated each word he spoke next with a hard push of the metallic weapon against the side of his head. _"Don't. Mistake. Me. For. Him."_ The gun pulled back, Dipper's hand clenched around it. He barely noticed the slight quiver to his grip, but it was there. It was definitely there. "Do I make myself _clear?"_

"…Crystal," Gideon muttered.

"Then we won't have a problem." Dipper's icy voice shivered down Gideon's spine. The glint in the older teenagers eyes warned him to stand down.

And stand down he did.

He wasn't crazy; sure he got angry at people, _sure_ he usually got what he wanted, but he was by no means _stupid_ enough to fight someone who clearly had more experience at this type of thing than he did.

Dipper retreated up the stairs, yanking it open. "Oh – and try to keep your leg elevated. I don't want you bleeding all over the place."

Once again, Gideon was left locked away in a cell.

* * *

 **Here we are, next chapter completed! This one was fun to write, actually, and there are a few bits and pieces that I'm really looking forward to you guys reading within the next couple of chapters**

 **Anyway, thank you for reading and reviewing! As always, until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Right, here's the next chapter of Burning Skies! Id like to thank my beta-reader PhoenixWillowsRox88 for checking it over!**

 **I don't have much else to say in the authors note this time, other than that I recently got a message asking whether or not it was okay to create fanart/playlists and such for this fic. Knock yourselves out! I'd love to see the stuff you guys create, whether it be for Walk the Line, Split, or Burning Skies! The easy way to get in contact with me is through my Tumblr at filthymallards . tumblr . com \- just remove the gaps between the periods/full stops. I look forwrd to hearing from you guys, but in the mean time, enjoy the chapter!  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

Every so often, Dipper would return to the cell. Sometimes he just came and went with some food and water. Sometimes he came to change his bandages. Sometimes he would lean against the door and just watch him.

Sometimes, he would ask if Gideon had decided whose side he was on.

Gideon always said he hadn't. Dipper always told him how much time he had left to decide – currently less than twenty-four hours. He never said what was going to happen to him if he didn't choose – or if he chose to not help Dipper. Part of his mind told him that it wouldn't be that bad, that Dipper would probably just kick him out, but another part of him said that there was no way he could predict what he would do. This Dipper was unpredictable to him, and that was something he just couldn't stand. How Dipper had come to be like this, he didn't know, but he _had_. Something fundamental had changed inside of him to turn him into this cold, bipolar-like person.

Only when Dipper walked in to inform him that he had twenty minutes to decide did he realize just what that fundamental thing was: Mabel. It was no wonder he'd reacted so badly to him having the key (not that he was going to _forgive_ him for practically _torturing_ him).

"Dipper?" He asked, pushing himself up so he could look at the shadowed teen standing at the top of the stairs. He could vaguely see that he was leaning against the door, but what was dangling from his hands was a mystery. When he didn't respond, Gideon continued. "...I've made mah choice."

That got a reaction. Dipper's feet shuffled along the wooden steps. "But before I say, I just have one question for ya."

"I'm not going to promise you an answer, Gideon."

Gideon scowled, turning his head to stare at his injured leg. Of course. He should have expected that. "You don't have to answer, but I'm still gonna ask."  
Dipper's fingers tapped against the door behind him, the sound echoing down the makeshift cell towards him.

"Not havin' Mabel messed you all up. Didn't it?"

Dipper didn't reply. Instead, footfalls heavy, he made his way down the stairs. Gideon felt a strange choking sound draw out of his throat as he saw the axe he was holding loosely in one hand.

 _Oh sweet Jesus._

Face carefully blank, eyes lidded in a way that appeared disinterested, he said, "Who's to say I wasn't _always_ this messed up, Gideon? Who's to say Bill didn't fuck me up when he possessed me. Huh? _Huh_?" His expression gave nothing away, but his words had a hissed edge. Gideon felt a spike of pride – at least now he knew what made Dipper tick - he could use that. Nevertheless, he could feel sweat gathering at his brow. He was screwed, Dipper was _crazy_ – absolutely _crazy!_

The older teen shook his head hard, pivoting on his feet to pace the length of the room. It only took four long strides before he was pacing in the opposite direction. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, stopped in front of him and ran his free hand down the side of his face. "No. You're right. Gideon, I can't fight Bill alone." He shrugged his shoulders, hand tightening around the axe handle. "I need Mabel. I've always needed her. She's my twin – my best friend…and I can't fight Bill without her."

Gideon slowly nodded, eyeing the weapon. "I'll tell you what I know - I've…I've picked mah side." Very hesitantly, the first genuine smile Gideon had seen from Dipper crossed his face. It was tiny, barely existent, but it _was_ there.

"Glad to have you on our team, Gideon." He sat down on the bed, and the axe dropped to the ground. He pushed up the sleeves of an old checkered green flannel he was wearing, steepling his fingers. He eyed roughed up hands, covered in a myriad of cuts and bruises. There had been old bruises on his hands before, when he'd been bandaging up his leg, but these were all knew. His knuckles were dark and bloodied, the skin surrounding them peppered with different shades of purples and blacks. He eyed one particularly nasty injury, a vicious looking, raw red burn that most assuredly hadn't been there a day ago. He didn't ask, and Dipper didn't seem to care, because all he did was fiddle with the key – Mabel's key – around his neck and say, "Now; let's get started. I suggest beginning from the start."

* * *

"So…what you're telling me is that Mabel might not even be in America?" Dipper said lowly, eyeing Gideon darkly. He didn't know how long they'd been talking, but it had to have been for at least two hours, judging by the slight ache in his belly.

He nodded. "Bill said he didn't want the chance of anyone findin' her – I, I'm not sure why – somethin' about her weirdness."

Dipper scoffed, kicking his axe hard so it slid across the floor and away from him. "Of course," he spat out. "Of. _Course_ he wouldn't just keep her in Oregon. Do you _know_ how long I've spent traveling around this fucking state looking for her?"

"Well. I can hasten a guess."

"And she's not even _here_." He was standing again, pacing. He picked up the axe, and with an angry shout, gripping it with two hands, he turned and cracked the axe against the concrete wall. Gideon jumped backwards on the bed, a spike of pain throbbing up his leg as he did. " _Yeesh_ , Pines, calm down!"

Dipper ignored him, slamming the axe against the wall until little chips of cement started to fall away. His face was blind with fury; fury and pure hatred, and only after there was a small hole in the wall and the axe handle had started to split from the head did he drop it. His breathing was deep and ragged, almost like he was going to cry, but when he turned to look at Gideon his eyes were dry and his face was livid.

 _"I'LL KILL HIM!"_

Gideon felt frozen stiff.

"I'll kill him," Dipper repeated, voice dropping. His hands clenched into fists. "But first I'm gonna..." His eyes darted around, chest heaving. "First I'm gonna rip him limb from limb!" He walked closer to Gideon, grabbing him by his shirt. He squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for a blow. "How long does it take for a demon to succumb to pain, huh? Do you know? Can they even _feel_ pain – cause…cause he's gonna feel pure _agony_ when I start ripping into him!" Dipper's grip tightened around his shirt, pulling him up a little. He peeked an eye open to look at the taller teenager. His eyes were blown wide and wild, black pupils swallowing brown

Gideon didn't know what to think anymore. Dipper wasn't sounding like himself at all – in fact, his voice was so dark, so completely maleficent, that the only way he could connect it with the teenager was because he was standing right in front of him.

"I…I…" He trailed off when Dipper laughed – a short, bitter laugh that held no humor. He released him, hands raking down his face, rubbing at his eyes as he slumped down on the bed. All his fight had vanished as if Gideon had snapped his fingers. He opened and closed his mouth, brows drawing down.

"Mabel would have never wanted this for me, you know." His voice had softened so much that Gideon had to strain to hear him. "What would she do if she saw me now? Do you think she'd even recognize me?" He sounded particularly miserable.

"Well, considerin' she last saw you _four years ago_ , I'd think there'd be some hesitation," Gideon replied.

Dipper laughed shortly, then glanced at him. His face had relaxed back to what he was beginning to understand was his 'default' setting – flat, inexpressive, made of stone.

"So…if she isn't here, then where is she, Gideon? Did Bill…" His hands clenched into fists on his knees. "Did he ever tell you?"

Gideon shook his head. "He always said he'd tell me after he'd finished conquerin' the earth. But he did say that she was somewhere with a good conductorin' force."

Dipper frowned slightly, looking away at the split axe. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me," he muttered.

The pair of them were silent for a long time, before sighing heavily together. Dipper stood up, the frown digging deeper across his mouth. He looked at the bandages on Gideon's leg, but didn't say anything. Picking up the axe, he said, "I'm glad I didn't have to use this, in the end. Thanks for choosing my side of things, Gideon."

 _So am I, Mr. Bateman, so am I._

"So…what now?" He pressed as Dipper made his way up the steps to the door. "Am I allowed to go?"

Dipper's eyebrows rose, head turning to look down at him. "Go? Go where? Your leg is busted up, and you look like you could barely hold up a weapon, let alone hold your own against a monster."

"This is your way of sayin' that I'm still your prisoner, ain't it?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly as he left the room. "Smart kid. See you in a bit."

Gideon grabbed his pillow as soon as the door shut, shoved it over his face, and threw the biggest tantrum into it that he could.

This was _so_ unfair.

* * *

 **Props to anyone who understand the reference in this chapter. If you can flick me a message with the correct answer, I'll write a chapter revolving around a prompt you suggest!**

 **Until next time, thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy reading it, too!**

 **Once again, I'd like to thank my beta PhoenixWillowsRox88! She makes my life much easier - you should all go check out her own work, she's a fabulous writer!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

The next few days were full of waiting. Dipper still came and went. He asked questions a lot, but Gideon for the most part could only answer with an 'I don't know,' or a 'why don't you ask Bill yourself,' if he was feeling particularly crotchety that day. He brought food and drink with him, changed his bandages, and even gave him a couple of books to read to pass the time. Gideon was beginning to think he was going to be stuck here forever.

The door swung open, Dipper's tall frame appearing in the doorway. "I brought you some crutches," he said as he walked down the stairs. Gideon sat up in his bed, letting his arms hold his weight.

"Where did you find these?" He demanded. "And why didn't you hand 'em over sooner?"

Dipper shrugged. "Think of it as a..." He paused to think, brows scrunching downwards. "A show of acquaintanceship. I can't trust you – doubt I ever will, but this is better than fighting. We're on the same side now, Gideon. A little bit of mobility is the least I can do after shooting you in the leg, I guess."

Gideon just huffed, taking the crutches from him and pushing the cushioned area of the crutches under his armpits. He pushed the ends against the ground, clenching his teeth and hissing as he finally managed to pull himself into a standing position.

It was a relief to be up and moving again. Blood started to flow back into his joints and muscles. He sighed softly, wriggling the toes on his good foot.

"Now this is gonna be a struggle, but you need to get upstairs."

"What?"

I said you need to get-"

"No, I _heard_ you, but I thought you were keepin' me down here?"

Dipper pursed his lips. "I don't want you dying on me or something, and I know my doctor won't want to drag all of her stuff down here. So up you go to get looked at properly."

Gideon scowled at him with annoyance. "You're a pain."

Dipper smirked at him in response, but the expression fell quickly, and he indicated the stairs with a tip of his head. "Go."

Struggling at first, he finally found a good pattern to move in, hobbling on one foot over to the stairs. Dipper's hand rested on his shoulder, helping him move up the stairs. Dipper shoved the door open with his foot, and with a pleased sigh, Gideon stepped out of the stuffy basement.

He sniffed, brows drawing downwards. "What's that smell?"

"Oh, that's _you,_ Gideon. You smell like a skunk farm," Dipper replied. "Once you get checked up I've got a few things I want to clear up with you, and then you can have a good scrub down. Perks of not being undesirable number one - well, two."

"Oh, _thanks_ , I appreciate your concern," he shot back with a scowl. "You don't have any hairspray, d'you?"

The small, but wicked smile that pulled at Dipper's lips didn't bode well at all. Gideon felt his scowl strengthen when he didn't get an answer to his question.  
Dipper stopped Gideon's limping movements with one hand in front of him before knocking on a hard wooden door.

There was no movement for a moment, and then the door was pulled open. A pair of huge eyes behind a pair of crooked glasses met his own startled blues.  
"Gideon Gleeful?" A girl with a light Korean accent said in a shocked tone.

Gideon's eyes flickered up to Dipper, who for some reason, was smirking superiorly down at him, eyes narrowed.

"I don't understand," he said.

Dipper's brows rose mockingly. "Oh, so you don't recognize Candy?"

 _Candy…Candy Chiu?_

He recognized her now, a strange black-haired girl. A friend of Mabel's.

Gideon straightened. "Mah band of merry men-"

"Say that again and I'll cut you," Dipper cut across.

"-mah band of…eh, _prisoners_ didn't capture you?"

Candy blinked at him, adjusting a pair of cracked, circular glasses on her button nose. "Clearly. Close calls though."

Dipper nudged Gideon inside, hard enough that he nearly lost one of his crutches to the floor. "But if you think we're just gonna explain our life stories to you, you've got another thing coming. Sit down."

Gideon plopped down on a low bed, putting the crutches down. "Okay. Understandable, but at least tell me where ya'll got all this medicine stuff." The room - a converted bathroom - was stocked full of a number of items and equipment he couldn't name. He spotted a bag of medical tape tossed on top of the counter, a tub of needles next to it, and sets of rolled up bandages. Gideon eyed an open cooler on the ground, stocked full of blood bags. He decided not to think about where it had all come from.

Candy was unwinding the bandages on his legs, and he grimaced, fighting back against the way she was jostling the injury around, a little too purposefully in his opinion. "We raid," Candy said.

"Raids?"

"Yeah, raids," Dipper said, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it. He jammed his hands into his pockets. "You know, breaking and entering, stealing whatever we want. Usually it's a pinch, but things get really bothersome if we get attacked by monsters or another group."

"Another group?"

"Uh huh – it wasn't just my faction in Bend for a long time. But the other few that were scattered around are gone now." Dipper and Candy shared a look that sent a slight chill up Gideon's spine.

Gideon opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but he let out a shrill scream instead. Candy had a piece of cloth pressed hard against the wound in his leg, a bottle of rubbing alcohol in her other hand. "Slight infection," she said, more to Dipper than him.

Dipper grinned unapologetically. "Oops."

Face flushed red, Gideon squeezed his eyes shut. Damn that hurt. His leg hadn't been hurting quite so much for a while now, but it was like the wound had been reopened, acid poured over it.

"I am surprised that bullet didn't pass through," Candy noted, patting his leg lightly, despite the cracking squeal at the back of his throat. "Lucky you, fat legs!"

"Mah legs ain't fat!" He spluttered.

"Fat enough. Oink oink."

Gideon opened his eyes in time to see Dipper's shoulders stop shaking, expression full of mirth.

 _That asswipe is enjoying this, isn't he?_

He chose to sulk rather than rise to the bait, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes watered against the pain in his leg, but the bite to the rubbing alcohol was starting to die down. Candy was winding fresh bandages around the injury. As she worked, she began to smile – just a little bit, but it was enough to coil his gut at the sense of oncoming danger.

"What's goin' on?" He demanded as Dipper suddenly took a step closer. He was spinning a pocket knife in his hands, and when the sharp blade suddenly snapped up, Gideon felt true, raw fear erupt in his belly.

"It's gotta go, Gideon," he said. His dark brown eyes had come to rest on his messy white hair.

"No!" He said with dawning horror. Dipper was grinning like a maniac, and Candy was giggling under her breath, and _this was worse than the hole in his leg._

"Not mah hair, anythin' but mah hair!"

He begged.

Dipper shook his head, tutting gently. Gideon's eyes followed the knife as he spun it around and through his fingers. "Stands out too much – you want to die?" He asked. "Because that's what going to happen if you stick out like a sore thumb."

"Please, Dipper – I'll give you anythin'! Just _please don't touch mah hair!"_

"Sorry, I can't hear you!" Dipper said, voice rising over his pleads. "Candy, did you hear anything?"

"No, Dipper, I did not!" She replied cheerfully.

The knife took against his hair. "Then I guess we don't have any problems!" One quick swipe later, and a horrified gasp tore past Gideon's lips, long strands of snow curls fluttering to the ground.

He was sure his cries could be heard miles away, but it wasn't like he could run away anywhere. Instead, he settled with gripping Dipper's arm, trying to stop his arm and keep it away from him. The older teenager seemed to barely notice his protests, both vocal and physical, and continued to saw through the white mess. Candy's black hair was being covered in pieces of white. She picked out a couple of strands, throwing them into the air.

"Winter wonderland!" She said enthusiastically, shaking her head of the remaining wisps.

All Gideon could do was watch in horror. It felt like part of him had been stepped on and crushed. His hands slipped away from Dipper's arm, and the older teen increased his cutting with a more rigorous vigor.

After some time, the floor and the bed carpeted in his snow white tresses, Dipper stopped. "Whew. That took longer than I thought."

"And…voila!" Candy said, spinning on the back of her feet and shoving a mirror in front of his face.

Gideon felt like crying all over again. It was _far_ too short. Dipper apparently wasn't feeling hateful enough to make him bald, but his hair was _flat_ and _lifeless_ and _oh, it was so horrible!_

"Dude. You're blubbering like a girl."

Candy harrumphed at him, and he quirked the smallest of smiles. "Sorry – like a girly stereotype."

"YOU CUT OFF MAH HAIR HOW AM I MEANT TO REACT!?"

"Oh, we aren't done yet," Candy noted, fixing her glasses on her nose.

"Oh no, you thought that was all?" Dipper added, eyebrows rising. Gideon paled significantly.

"White hair… _much_ too obvious," Candy said.

"What fourteen year old has _white_ hair?"

"The ones who work for Bill-" She was taking far too much enjoyment out of how uncomfortable he was.

"-and we just can't have someone figuring out that you're _the_ Gideon Gleeful: Bill Cipher's feared lieutenant." Dipper wasn't any better, his voice sly.  
Gideon felt weak, quaking where he sat – not because of his leg, no, but from the way Candy was shaking a pack of black hair dye in his face.

"Oh heavens to Betsy…" he murmured. He felt his body give out from under him, black dots clouding his vision, and then he was out like a light.

* * *

He awoke to the sensation of being thrown into the Antarctic Ocean. With a gasp, he sat up, eyes blown wide. Dipper was standing over him, Candy next to him with an empty mug in her hands.

"Again?" Dipper asked.

"No!" Gideon panicked, waving his arms quickly in front of his face. He brushed his arm over his eyes to stop water from dripping into them. His hair felt light against his head despite how clogged and wet it was. With a pang of horror, he remembered Dipper slicing it off, and then Candy waving a box in his face.

"You didn't," he mumbled with muted repulsion.

"You look goth! It does not suit you!" Candy said cheerfully, heading across the room to the bathtub.

"I hate you. I really _really_ hate you, Dipper Pines," Gideon bit out miserably.

The expression on Dipper's face shifted from playful humor to cruel sadism. "Let me be _perfectly_ _clear_ , Gideon," he said quietly, leaning down into Gideon's face. His voice spoke like a snake eyeing prey; soft, hypnotic, sinister. "You are _nothing_ to me but a household of information. Once that information well dries up, what do you think is going to happen to you?"

Gideon swallowed thickly.

"That's right," his eyes crinkled at the corners, as if he had heard a particularly good joke. "So if you want to stay in the realm of the living, I suggest you fall in line. Things for you will be _much_ more pleasant for you if you just accept it and move on." The corner of his mouth pulled at the corner, curling up in disgust. "Or I can break you, in _every single sense of the word._ I'm not a fan of puppets myself…" His whole face seemed to tighten, the pull at his mouth dropping back into something neither a smile nor a frown. "But if that's what I have to do to make sure you're stuck with me until _every single last drop of information has been drilled out of you_ , then that's what I'll do."

Dipper straightened his back, Gideon's eyes watchful and wary on him.

Before Dipper could back away, to leave him to mull over his words, he uttered, "You're just like Bill, you know. You're as much of a monster as he is."

To his credit, Dipper didn't really react to the harassment. Instead, he said something Gideon wasn't sure he was fully prepared to hear – not from someone who'd always seemed so firmly on the side of what was decent and _noble._ "Good." His face was slack, giving nothing away. Candy was watching them intently from where she was gathering up some bags of saline. "I read somewhere once…that 'he who fights monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. But I don't think that's true. Sometimes the best way – the _only_ way to fight them is to become one yourself."

Did he just not _care?_ No - that wasn't right, of course he did. Unless what he'd said to him about Mabel had been all some elaborate ploy to pull him onto his side.

"I know who I am, Gideon," he continued. His eyes fell on Candy, whose face had been plastered with a strange expression, one that spoke of strength and understanding. "And I might not like what I've had to do to get here, but I've accepted it. This just isn't a war we can afford to lose... and sometimes the only way to battle a great evil is to fight fire with fire."

"Or burn to the ground trying," Candy recited with a firm nod.

"Or burn to the ground trying," Dipper murmured back.

"That…that ain't no way to live," Gideon argued bitterly.

"Sure it's not. But it is a way to die."

Gideon fell silent, pulling his good leg up onto the bed. Dipper breathed in deep, let it out, and said, "Right. We have a bath set up for you. You'll have to keep your leg out of the water, and make sure you wash your hair well. There are some clean clothes and a towel out already, so make use of those, okay? I'm sure you can handle moving around yourself. Once you're done, head down to the last door at the end of the hallway – someone will help you out with getting some food and water in you. After that…" His hand clenched around the shooting star key. "After that, we'll discuss what happens next. See you soon."

Dipper turned and left, Candy a second behind him. Gideon stared at the door they'd walked out of.

He felt trapped between a rock and a hard place – it was Bill or Dipper, and the latter wasn't proving himself to be a better option at the moment.

Letting out a puff of air, and picking himself up on his crutches, he pushed the thought way. At least he had one thing going for him at the moment. If he could hold onto as much information as he could, then Dipper would keep him around.

It was better than just trying to get by, at the very least.

* * *

 **I really liked writing the whole psyche stuff in this chapter. If you're interested, the reason Candy is in this fic is because I needed a character who could play the role of the doctor within Dipper's group (he isn't super human, he can't do everything after all), and I wasn't too keen on creating an OC for such a integral character. How Dipper and Candy managed to band together will be explained in later chapters!**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing guys, and I'll see you next time!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the next chapter of Burning Skies! Hopefully you guys enjoy the chapter!  
**

 **Thanks to my beta reader PhoenixWillowsRox88 for making sure this mess made sense - seriously, there'd be mistakes all over the show if it wasn't for her!  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

The boy that peered back at Gideon in the mirror was someone he did not recognize. Mournfully, he reached up to pet at still damp, black hair. His hand retracted immediately. He could barely touch it anymore without feeling a sickening sense of loss in the pit of his stomach.

A sharp rapping against the door drew his attention. Leaning back on his crutches, he hobbled back to the bed, seating himself. "Come in."

The door pulled open hard and Dipper poked his head inside. His eyes swiveled over to Gideon, half-lidded and scrutinizing. Finally, he gave an approving nod. "Good. I hardly recognized you."

"I feel like a commoner," he muttered, pulling at the drawstrings on the hoodie he'd been given so the edges of the hood scrunched up.

"You're lucky I gave you clean clothes. I was sorely tempted to give you the filthiest I could find," he retorted sharply.

Gideon said nothing, not giving him the satisfaction, but he felt his lips tighten into a thin line anyway. He went back to fiddling with the scrunched hood, stretching the fabric back out.

Leaning against the door, Dipper brushed a hand through his own hair. "Hey man, it was for the best. Your hair, I mean. That monster should have shown you that. I _could_ have cut it all off, but I didn't. At the very least, appreciate that, yeah?"

He turned his back on Dipper. He couldn't win, but at the very least he could passively resist.

Time stretched out, thin and long around them. Even though there wasn't a clock in the room, he could still feel faint ticking within his own brain.

Finally, Dipper spoke up. "You wanna get some food?"

Gideon's stomach growled loudly in response. A blush heated up his cheeks, and he gave the slightest of nods. No point denying it now.

"Good!" The older teenager replied brightly. He turned his back, and when he spoke again, his voice had dimmed. "Hurry up." He briskly walked out of the room, and Gideon fumbled to catch up, shambling after him as fast as he could on his crutches.

Dipper had stopped outside a heavy door. His eyes took in the metal reinforcements crafted against the wooden door. From inside he could hear the moving of feet, the quiet murmurs of voices. Dipper leaned forward, hitting the door in a gentle rhythm. A key unbolted a lock on the other side with a hard _thunk_.

Wicked brown eyes fell on Gideon, something prideful burning within them.  
"Welcome, Gideon," he said as he turned the knob, shoving the door open with his shoulder. "To your new life in the rebellion."

 _…rebellion?_

Dipper walked confidently into the room, but Gideon found himself hovering in the door way, leaning on his crutches out of sheer shock rather than injury. People – _so many people_ \- wandered through an expansive room, weapons hanging at their hips or in makeshift holsters across their backs and under arms. Two teens and a woman were rushing around the room with a box each in their arms, and from the boxes the other survivors were drawing out plastic-wrapped cookies and little disposable bottles of water. His eyes fell on Candy when she let out a whoop of victory from the other side of the room, watching her pull a pile of poker chips towards a bigger stash while the other players looked on with discontent.

A smack on his shoulder grabbed at his attention and he jumped in shock, crutch clattering to the floor. "Jesus, don't scare me like that!" He bit out at Dipper.

He handed it back to Gideon, waiting for him to prop himself back up on it carefully before letting go of his shoulder. "Come get something to eat," he said as he waded through the crowd. Gideon grimaced as he was jostled through the mass, keeping an eye on Dipper as they moved. He'd have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't surprised by the amount of people hiding out here. Bill had always made it sound like almost all the survivors, in America at least, had been incapacitated in some way or another, and Gideon had really only been tasked in rounding up the ones stupid enough to stay in Gravity Falls.

Gideon stopped awkwardly behind Dipper when he paused to talk to one of the men carrying around the boxes.

"No luck on the last retrieval, then?" He asked as he pulled out two cookies and two bottles.

The teen jostled the box around, expression grim. "No. We ended up deciding that it wasn't safe. We…we didn't want to lose anyone else in there." His grip around the edge of the box tightened, hands shaking, and when he looked up at Dipper, Gideon felt a strange tightness grip inside his gut and spread out to run through his entire body.

This was a kid, not really a teen. He couldn't have been any older than thirteen, in any case.

"Can we…can we try again tomorrow?" He whispered hopefully.

Gideon leaned heavily on his crutch, silently reprimanding this boy for crying, if the mist in his eyes was any indication, but the vague sense of aversion vanished when Dipper spoke, voice the burning of ice.

"She's dead, kid. No point going out to get yourself killed, too."

Mouth open, Gideon stared as the kids shoulders slumped. "But…but I…" He sucked in a strange breath of air that was half sob. "O-Okay. I understand." Without another word, he was scurrying away back into the crowd.

Dipper pushed the cookie and bottle into his hands. He struggled to find a more comfortable grip on his crutches as grabbed them. "Eat," he said.

"What in the world was that?!" Gideon demanded.

"What was what?"

"That was just - cruel!"

A condescending brow cocked down at him. "…coming from you?"

Gideon felt a flush cover his cheeks. "W-well, I'm prob'ly the most qualified to be the judge of that!"

Dipper just made a noise in the back of his throat, before unscrewing the top on his bottle, taking a long sip. He gave the boy a small shove to order him over to an empty table. "I do what I have to do, Gideon. That's what it takes to be a leader."

"Wait, leader?"

"Of course. Why do you think it was me who did the interrogation?"

 _I'm an idiot._

Lips pursed, Gideon waddled his way to a chair, dropping down on the hard wood with a huff. "I can't believe I missed that."

Dipper sat opposite him, dark eyes darting through the crowd of people eating and socializing. "Neither can I. I always took you for a smart guy, Gideon, but it looks like you've had quite a few brain cells knocked out of that noggin of yours." He lifted his hand and waved in Candy's direction.

"Oh, shut it, Pines," he grumbled, ripping off the plastic packaging and munching hungrily into the cookie. Chocolate assaulted his senses, and he felt his mouth start to water. He hadn't had chocolate since being in Gravity Falls. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the taste.

"Cookies good, yes?" Candy said brightly as she sat down next to Dipper.

Gideon mumbled an answer, eyes shut as he enjoyed the sensation. Swallowing, he got his words out. "It somewhat makes up for you two ruinin' mah hair…but only a little bit. Like zero point four percent makes up for it."

Candy hummed slightly, nodding her head. "Exact numbers. Very convincing!"

Gideon settled back into eating and chugging down his drink. His eyes settled back on the key around Dipper's neck, watching it swing around his neck as he leaned backwards in his seat, grinning at Candy when she launched into an explanation of a particularly nasty monster defeat from a few days ago.

"And then BOOM! Blown to pieces!" She finished with an explosion of her hands upwards, laughing. Dipper laughed back hard.

"Oh damn, I wish I'd been there to see it!"

"You missed out!" Candy agreed.

Gideon's gaze flickered between them, half incredulous. How they were joking around right now was beyond him. They were fugitives, rebels in the middle of a losing war. Dipper now had the literal key to winning on his neck and he wasn't…wasn't even doing anything about it? Half of him wanted to snap and yell at Dipper to get into gear, if he wanted Mabel back, but the other half of him also remembered that this wasn't someone he could push around anymore. The teen could flip the switch and turn on him within a few terse seconds, and he didn't doubt that he'd be royally screwed if that happened amongst a room full of his peers.

So instead of bursting out angrily, he just cleared his throat, drawing Candy and Dipper's attention to him.

"So what are we goin' to do about Mabel?" He asked.

The humor in their faces vanished immediately, replaced by identically clinical expressions.

"Well first we have to find where she is," Dipper said, leaning forward so his elbows rested on the table in front of them, propping his chin up on interlaced fingers. "And you're next to useless in regards to her location…" His mouth fell into a frown.

"Well…what information did you give to Dipper?" Candy questioned, blinking at Gideon behind her thick lenses.

"Well, Bill never told me much. Just that I was to look after her key and hunt down any survivors in the town," he said. "All I can say for sure is that he wanted to keep her somewhere she wouldn't be found by…" He trailed off, glancing at Dipper. "Well, you, I s'pose. People who know what Bill is truly capable of, in any case. Because of her weirdness."

Candy tapped the table gently, her brows deeply furrowed. "Dipper?"

"What?"

"Do we have a global map anywhere?"

He gave a small nod. "Sure we do, in my office. Why?"

She rushed away with a short, "See you later," leaving Dipper watching after her with knitted brows.

"Think she's on to somethin'?" Gideon asked hesitantly.

"Oh, definitely," Dipper said. "She isn't my second-in-command for no reason." A smug smile broke onto his face as he finished his water, screwing the cap back on the bottle. "Her expertise certainly lies in medicine, but make no mistake – she can be just as vicious as me if she has to be. Maybe even more so if the situation calls for it."

Gideon looked away from him, back down at his own half drunken water. He didn't like the sound of that at all. He fiddled with the cap, frowning hard. Neither he nor Dipper seemed inclined to continue the conversation, so they simply sat and waited in a strained silence. His eyes flickered up every few moments to catch Dipper's fingers twirling around the key's golden chain, catching the sharp shadow that dripped down his face as he thought.

Rushed footsteps grabbed his attention upwards to Candy as she came back with a rolled up scroll of thick paper. Gideon pulled his drink off the table when she smacked the paper down, unrolling it across the table. The map was old and faded, blowing up dust around them when Candy brushed it clean with the edge of her hand. She had a look on her face Gideon hadn't seen there before. He knew what it was, even though he hadn't seen it for four years.

Hope.

"You say he put her somewhere to protect her, because of her weirdness?"

Gideon nodded, unsure where her thought process was going, or why she was grinning so wide that he could practically see all of her teeth.

"Weirdness is key! Weird places around the globe – places like Gravity Falls!"

"You mean from before this whole mess started?"

"Exactly!" She gushed out. Her cheeks with pink with exertion, eyes bright and alive behind the cracked frames of her glasses.

Dipper was standing in his seat, looking over the map fervently. His eyes darted from state to state, country to country – across the seas and lands, lips moving silently. Snatching a pocket knife from his pocket, he bent down over the map, slashing out the square that represents Oregon within the United States.

"Well. She isn't anywhere here."

"It's a start." Candy said earnestly.

Gideon rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flitting back and forth between them.

"What's goin' on, exactly?"

Dipper lifted his head to look at him. Even though his expression had yet to change from the passivity he was prone to falling into, he could read the excitement in his eyes.

"Never you mind," he said. "Hey, Candy, let's go discuss this in private."

"Wait, you're just leaving me here?" Gideon demanded with obvious objection. Dipper was already rolling the map up, tucking it under his arm. "Hey, wait-"

The pair of them had disappeared in the throngs of the crowd before he could even stand.

"Gah!" He snapped, throwing the crutch down onto the floor. "I hate you both!"

 _So much for being useful. Assholes- the pair of 'em!_

* * *

 **A little bit of plot development here - what's going on is gonna come to fruition a few chapters down the track!**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy the future chapters to come!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's the next chapter of Burning Skies! I'd once again like to thank my amazing beta PhoenixWillowsRox88 for fixing up the mistakes that are undoubtedly rampant all across this fic because I'm too incompetent to find and fix them myself. She's seriously amazing!  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

"Oi. Gideon. Wake up," a voice called into his ear. It sounded far away, like an echo bouncing across an empty hall.

Gideon stirred, curling under the blankets. "G'way."

"Get your fat ass up before I kick you awake," the voice wasn't as passive this time, and felt much more in his face. He peeked an eye open to see sharp brown ones staring down at him.

"JESUS!" He shrieked, scrambling backwards until he fell off the bed, butt hitting the floor with a loud _thud_ , legs sticking up in the air. "You scared the hell outta me!"

Dipper smiled, clearly enjoying the reaction. He straightened, reaching down to pull him up. "Get dressed, Gideon. I've got things to deal with today, and one of them includes dealing with you."

Gideon stared at him through narrowed eyes, shuffling up carefully after taking his offered hand and fumbling for a crutch. It had been a few days since he and Dipper had really _talked_ , and while he'd managed to make some friends within the stronghold, they didn't hold the same ability to argue that Dipper did. It was strange, he realized, that he looked forward to their bickering. He almost hastened to call Dipper a…well, not a friend – he knew the older teen would have just laughed in his face if he were to ever even consider that – but…something that wasn't quite an acquaintance, and not an enemy. Maybe he only thought that because Dipper was a familiar face. Someone who shared the same goals that he did. There was Candy too, of course, but she was just a little bit strange for his tastes. He usually preferred to keep his distance. (Especially when she was grinning like a shark. That could only mean something bad.)

The few friends he had made – a girl about his age with cropped red hair called Sadie, and a beefy kid who looked like he could throw him across a football field that insisted his name was Chompy said that it was strange that Dipper had taken to hiding out in his office so often. They said that that he was usually busy discussing things or talking to the group, or just in general being _around._

Gideon gathered from their talks that he was really the only one other than Candy in on Mabel's key. Half of him knew this was too good an opportunity not to use. He had something to use against Dipper for once, some sort of leverage, but how that leverage would help him wasn't apparent just yet.

The other half of him could just see that strange burning in the back of Dipper's eyes if he were to challenge him – see the enjoyment he would get out of making him squirm, how he'd hiss at him threateningly, _daring_ him to fight back.

And Gideon really didn't want to get locked up again, or worse – tossed back into that mess of chaos only to be torn to shreds or turned to stone.

He grimaced down a shiver at the thought.

"Get dressed, Gideon, and you're skipping out on breakfast today."

He paused in grabbing the hoodie hanging off the back of the chair. "Wait, what? You're makin' me skip breakfast?" He said, feeling a tad offended. "Are you tryin' to starve me now?"

Dipper raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk shadowing over his face. "Well, if that's what you want me to do, Gideon, I'm sure I can work something out-"

"No! No, that's alright!" He blurted out quickly, waving his hands back and forth wildly. He barely got what he considered enough now, he didn't want to lose what privileges he _did_ have.

"That's what I thought," he said. "Hurry up and get dressed. Find Candy when you're done. She'll tell you what's happening."

Gideon frowned after him as he left the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He slumped against the support, rubbing the side of his head. What Dipper could want after days of barely any words between them was beyond him. Of course, his first thought was that they'd made some progress with Mabel's key and that they needed his help, but he dropped that idea as soon as it fluttered into existence. There was no way Dipper trusted him enough to give him any intentional leverage. So really, he had no idea what the two resistance leaders were thinking, and that was enough to warrant some sense of urgency.

He hobbled out of the room he'd been sleeping in for the past few days – a small boxy area that housed four of the other resistances occupants. The first few nights he'd been awoken by rustling and quiet voices. Only after he'd spoken to Chompy about it did he realize they were going out hunting in the early dawn hours, trying to find food for the group. It was always exciting when they came back with actual food for once (the best so far had been rabbit stew), though sometimes there were…unexpected meals.

Like eyebat eyes, which, oddly enough, tasted like grape jelly. (Whoever had come up with the idea to eat those things was most assuredly _messed up.)_

He grimaced as a sharp pain tazed up his leg when he knocked it against the wall as he turned down the hall. It only really hurt when he knocked into things now, which was a relief, but he was also _really bad_ at _not knocking into things_. So far though, he'd managed to avoid any serious crashes and hadn't reopened the injury. Candy had made it clear that if he did open it again, she wouldn't be sacrificing anymore medical supplies on him.

 _"We won't waste time burying you, either,"_ her words from yesterday came back to him, from when she'd been checking his injuries. _"No time for traitors."_

The worst part of his predicament wasn't that he had to share his sleeping quarters with other people, or even that he'd been shot in the leg. _Heck,_ even his _hair_ was only a close second to the annoyance that he felt at not knowing just where in hell he stood with them.

Gideon leaned against his crutch as he knocked on the door to Candy's nursing office. A beat later, the door had flung open and the raven-haired girl was beaming at him. "Gideon!"

So he was on good terms with her today, apparently.

Her fingers wrapped over his shoulder. "Excited?"

"Annoyed. Why d'you and Pines have to be so gosh darn shifty all the time?"

"Duh. Because it's fun!" She hurried him along, hand sliding down to his wrist and half dragging him as he frantically began hopping after her, trying to keep up so he didn't face plant into the hard timber underneath their feet. Candy suddenly stopped, and Gideon smacked straight into her back with a grunt. She fished a key out from the pocket of her jacket, slotting a slim, rust-mottled key into a padlock. The lock clicked open, and she returned both items to her pockets. Pushing the door open and flicking a light switch on, she stepped aside to let him take a look.

Gideon's mouth fell open when he saw what was inside.

Rows upon rows of shelves, some gleaming silver and bolted down, others just stacked boxes with hastily scrawled labels across the side, and all stocked full of _weapons_.

He hobbled inside to the center of the room, taking in each shelf, box, and label with a surprised, almost ecstatic fervor. His eyes paused on one box, tucked into the back with thick black writing burned into it.

 _Jxdfz_.

 _Magic._

He started towards it, but Candy's voice stopped him.

"I would not touch that one just yet. That is Dipper's."

"But-"

"I'm warning you," she said, and when he turned his head to look at her, he didn't see a threatening look on her face. Candy's expression was firm and serious. Cautioning. "Leave it and keep your head or touch it and lose it."

Not _her_ threat then. Something passed on by _someone_ who shot him in the goddamn leg.

He slowly backtracked away from the box, turning to face her completely. For a moment, he said nothing, processing her words. Finally, he settled on what he wanted to say.

"Why did you bring me here?" He asked.

"Dipper says it's time you start pulling your weight around here. So we start with defense!"

Gideon watched her as she walked around the different shelves, humming to herself, eyebrows slowly rising up to his forehead. "Uh…" He said as she turned with a dangerous looking baseball bat in her hands, grinning like a maniac. His eyes traveled across the nails and spikes embedded at the end. Candy weighted it up in her hands, then nodded.

He stared at it, then up at her as she tried to shove it in his hands. "Wait wait wait…" He said, waving a hand at her. "How can you expect me to…to defend anythin' when I'm on _crutches?"_

"You only need one. Your other leg is fine," she dismissed, trying to push it in his hands again. He backed up away from her. It wasn't the bat he had a problem with, or even what he might have been expected to do with it – okay, he wasn't too keen on getting his hands dirty. He usually left that for his henchmen – but…he really preferred not to think about the implications of having to learn to _defend himself._

"You don't think I'm gonna have to fight somethin'?" He asked, trying to subdue the alarm in his voice.

"That's exactly what we think."

He was quiet for a moment, feeling like his brain had come to a squealing stop. Okay, yeah, he'd known he'd have to do it eventually, but he'd thought he'd at least get to hide away until his leg had healed…which according to Candy could be _months_ away unless they could find an accelerant of some sort to speed up the process (the way she said it made him think what she was considering was magical in origin).

"But…But…" He searched for some kind of excuse, raising his finger to strike a point, only to let it fold in on itself glumly. "I…I got nothin'." He snatched the bat away from her after dropping one of his crutches. She was right – it wasn't like he really needed that one.

The raven haired girl messed Gideon's own inky black locks, either missing or ignoring the scowl on his face. "Let us go!" She said brightly, pushing him out of the artillery room with an enthusiastic bounce to her step. The door was swiftly padlocked again.

Following Candy as she continued on down the hall, he said, "So why don't I get a gun?"

Even without having to see her face, he heard the mirth in her voice. "What? And give you the ability to _really_ kill someone? Don't be silly!" She smacked him jovially across the back.

Face falling into one of annoyance, he hobbled after her on his one crutch, the other clenched around the bat. Part of him itched to whack her with it – get out of here, maybe run back to Bill and beg to be allowed back into his circles and tell him all about Dipper Pines and his stronghold.

But he knew that wouldn't end well for him at all. So it was with a huge, drawn in breath and an even longer, drawn out sigh that he relaxed his grip on the bat and half hopped after her as quick as he could. It was decidedly harder to move with only one support.

He hesitated only for the briefest of seconds when Candy pulled open a sliding door and stepped outside – hesitated because _why were they going outside that was crazy,_ and only briefly because _they were going outside, oh hell yes!_

Fresh – _fresh!_ – air greeted his lungs, and he took three of the largest, gasping breaths that he could. He hadn't realized quite how stuffy it had been inside. His eyes took in large fences guarding the backyard of the resistance fortress. He noticed the strategically placed canopy, dead center of the yard with one broken leg tilting it sideways, and umbrellas positioned in such a way that they looked like they'd been toppled over in a panic.

Slowly, his eyes traveled to Dipper, who was sparring underneath the canopy with a gangly girl who had little sprockets of blonde hair spiking out all over an otherwise shaved head.

The girl let out a surprised yelping sound when the thick brown stick Dipper was holding swiped her legs out from under her and came to rest between her eyes.

"And that's why you need to listen when Wes tells you to hone your reflexes. The monsters might not get to you like this, but other survivors will. You're strong, Kate, stronger than me, but if you can't recognize your weaknesses, you may as well just lay down and die." Candy was nodding her head hard from where she stood next to Gideon, silently agreeing.

The girl – Kate – nodded solemnly. "I'll do better."

"Don't just _say_ it. _Swear_ it," Dipper said as he hauled her back up.

"I swear it!" She echoed strongly. "Thanks, Dipper!" She turned and squeezed passed Gideon and Candy back inside. Dipper looked at Gideon.

"A bat, huh? Violent weapon to pick," he said skeptically.

"I didn't pick it. You're wench did – ow!" Gideon glared at Candy, rubbing the sore arm she'd just punched.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, okay, get over here."

Candy disappeared back inside the stronghold as Gideon walked over to Dipper, leaning on his crutch and holding his bat. Dipper took it from him and inspected it carefully.

"Candy picked well. It's light for a bat, but the spikes look threatening enough for any survivors who aren't out for your blood to leave you be. This'll do you good until you're free to use both hands again. Or until I think I can trust you with something a little more damaging." He handed it back.

"Like some of 'em magical weapons?"

Dipper's bark of laughter cut him short. His eyebrows furrowed down in confusion. "What? What's so funny?" He demanded.

Dipper muffled his laughs with his hand. _"You!"_ He spoke from behind his palm. "Thinking I'm gonna ever let you touch _my_ stuff!"

"But-"

 _"Gideon_. I'm never going to trust you enough to let you touch them. I'd have to be _dead_ to even give you the option – and even then I'd come back to tear you to pieces for so much as putting a pinky on them."

Gideon's shoulder slumped. "Well jeez, you coulda just _said_ so. Jerk."

Dipper shook his head, stepping back from Gideon. "Okay, so show me how you'd hold your weapon."

Gideon blinked up at him, then down at the bat in his hand. Slowly, he lifted the bat into the air, so it was at the height of his shoulder.

"Okay…" Dipper said, blinking slowly. "That's…well, that's completely wrong."

"Well how am I meant to know! I've never done somethin' like this before!"

"Just-" Dipper huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. He opened them again, walking up to Gideon, and pulled him hand off of the weapon. "You're protecting no part of your body like that, first off. And the way you're standing is totally wrong – and yeah, no, I don't mean because you can't walk on one leg before you say anything smart." Dipper positioned himself with one leg behind the other, raising the bat so it was diagonal across his torso. "Now, if I had a crutch, I wouldn't be wanting to put all of my weight onto it. Instead, use your good leg as the bracer behind you."

Gideon hesitated, positioning his good leg behind him and putting all the weight of his body onto it.

"Good," Dipper said. "So you aren't completely useless." He handed the bat back to Gideon, who adjusted his grip on it to grasp it like Dipper had been. The tall teenager pried his fingers off and put them back on in a different hold. "Holding it like this will give you a better twist in your wrist," he explained. He shuffled away again, eyes raking him up and down before he gave a taunt nod. "Much better."

"I still don't see how this is goin' to help me."

Dipper paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, tilting his head thoughtfully. "...let me be straight with you, Gideon," he finally said, glancing down his nose at him. "You're pretty much a sitting duck right now. If the base gets attacked, you're gonna die unless you can hide somewhere."

Gideon swallowed thickly. That…well that didn't sound good at all. The way he was speaking it was like he _expected_ them to be attacked or something. Maybe he was speaking from experience.

"If that does happen, no one is going to come and save you, Gideon. You might know some things that I don't about Bill, about Mabel, about Gravity Falls, but that doesn't mean I give a shit about you. There are others ways to get information, in the end. Your life isn't all that important. It's just convenient."

"…thanks for the boost of confidence," he muttered scathingly.

 _"But,"_ Dipper stressed. "Because you _are_ convenient, I would prefer you to stay alive. At least learning this will give you some semblance of a chance."

Gideon's gaze flickered to the ground, staring at the scuffed marks of shoes imprinted on the ground from others, like that Kate girl, and Dipper, who'd trained and learned to fight just like he was going to have to.

"I don't want to die," he murmured.

"No. Nobody does." Dipper's voice was quiet, a little more somber. "But not wanting to means absolutely nothing. That's just the way it is."

Gideon lowered his weapon so it dangled at his side, hand clenching tight around the handle. "Hey…Dipper? Did you ever think that Mabel might have…I dunno - died?"

He was silent for a while, and when Gideon finally raised his gaze to look at him, his shoulders had hunched, his gaze had darkened into a strange sort of twisted emotion he couldn't place, and he wouldn't meet Gideon's eyes. For a long time, he didn't think Dipper was going to answer.

"I did." He sounded guilty when he did speak. "For a really long time, I did. You know, the idea didn't really hit until I saw this…this girl – just a kid, really – die right in front of me. Infection, and I…I couldn't save her." His voice had tightened, choking out more like a whisper. "And I just remember thinking _'she's dead, isn't she? I'm the only Pines left, aren't I?'"_ Dipper shook his head. When he eventually looked Gideon in the eye, his dark brown were clear and confident, the mist that had overhung them just a moment before closed behind shutters. "But that was stupid, of course." His voice was a little cockier now. For the first time, Gideon wondered just how fake that ego was. "I would have felt something if she'd died. We're twins – best friends. But I felt nothing. So there was no way she was dead. The idea stuck for a really long time. That is, of course, until I found you. And then that key." His hand moved up to twist around it. "And now I know what I have to do – I have to get her back." His words had taken on a sharp edge, almost fervent, and it was with a start that Gideon finally understood why Dipper had been so vacant the last few days.

"You've found her. Haven't you?" He asked in such a soft tone he didn't think Dipper had heard. The grim, determined, but happy smile fighting to grow across his face said otherwise.

"Yeah. We found her."

Gideon swore he felt his heart stop.

"We found her."

* * *

 **A little bit longer of a chapter this time around. Hopefully this shed's a little bit of light on what Dipper's been getting up to in the last couple of years (though this is by far the last you'll be reading about his misadventures on the way to rebellion leader and gun-toting badass).  
**

 **Until next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's the next chapter! A wonderful thanks to my beta reader PhoenixWillowsRox88 for making sure this whole thing was actually understandable.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

"So where is she?" Gideon asked quickly, when he finally found his bearings.

"Yeah, that's for me to know, and you to find out when I decide I either need your help or believe you're worthy of knowing."

Gideon stared at him, mouth open and slightly aghast. "What? But why?"

"Because you're a traitorous little shit and I don't trust you. Fair?"

Grouchily, he looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. "No."

Dipper smacked the back of his shoulder. "Okay. Now get lost. I'm done with having you in my face."

Gideon didn't argue with him, hand clenched around his weapon, but he also didn't move. He turned away for a moment, then spun back around as quickly as he could manage to hit Dipper with the weapon. He'd barely managed to move it before a firm shoe had slammed hard into his chest and sent him sprawling to the ground. Dipper smirked from above him, hands shoved in his pockets casually.

"Good attempt, kid," he sneered, removing the toe of his shoe from where he'd pressed it to his windpipe. "But you're gonna have to work a hell of a lot harder to even come _close_ to my level."

"Cocky bastard."

"I try."

Dipper hoisted him up by the back of his shirt, half choking him in the process, but letting him go when he was on his feet. He even handed him his crutch and bat back.

 _How thoughtful of you, you sadistic douchecanoe._

Gideon squared his shoulders as he walked away, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing him beaten down.

His mind flew back to their talk; that strange, predatory look on Dipper's face as he told him that if he did not comply, he was going to break him into tiny pieces.

In his mind's eye, he saw it – himself, a walking, talking pawn with strings attached, and Dipper, controlling his movements and leading him straight into a deep dark abyss that he wouldn't be able to escape from. Somewhere he'd be left to rot and die.

And that bastard would enjoy it, too.

One hand clenched around his crutch, the other tightening around his bat, he let out a hiss between his teeth.

 _Just comply, Gideon. Stop asking questions. Just do as you're told and things will be okay._

Dipper wasn't Bill. Sure, they were two sides of the same coin, but in the end, one was still heads and one was still tails.

Similar but different, with separate buttons that could be pushed but shouldn't be.

Really, though, Gideon just didn't know what to think about Dipper Pines.

Of course, this wasn't the first time he'd thought about this - how completely dissimilar his twelve year old and sixteen year old selves were, and it wasn't going to be the last. Knowing that Mabel's questionable existence was part of the reason he was like this was just one - albeit large - piece of the puzzle that he was proving to be.

Which…was frustrating, to say the least. Dangerous, at the worst.

It was something he'd have to think about more seriously, at some point.

But right now, his stomach was growling, and the smell of freshly cooked meat was wafting out from the kitchen through the window, speaking sensual whispers straight to his taste buds.

Who was he to deny something so undoubtedly delicious?

* * *

He didn't know how many days it had been since Candy had last asked to see his leg (he was keeping track of sunrises and sunsets, but things were getting a little confusing now), but when she did ask to see it, it was with a bubbling enthusiasm that seemed a little too insane to prove good to him, if the little laughs she kept having to quell were any indication.

"So…what's the matter?" Gideon questioned as she pushed him down onto the edge of the bed in her nursing office.

She didn't respond right away, rummaging around in some cupboards and mumbling something about 'fairy dust' and 'not exactly the magic mushroom I meant' and then she had spun around with a little jar of glowing pink paste in her hand. She shook it at him excitedly.

"I'm going to heal your leg – give improvement, even!"

He straightened where he sat, feeling excitement quiver through his arms. "What? You found somethin' to heal the wound? When did that happen?"

"Few days ago – these toadstools only sprout on the full moon. Still had to check it was the right mushroom though - things could have gotten…very strange very quickly if I was wrong."

"So is there still a chance it's the wrong one?" He said hesitantly. Her grin said it all, but still she stepped forward, uncorking the bottle and smacking the open end onto her palm.

"Stretch out your leg."

He did as she asked. Okay, there was the possibility things could go horribly wrong, but he was prepared for that. It couldn't have been worse than the actual injury itself. Candy slathered the radiant pulp across the bullet wound, ignoring the painful wince from Gideon as she pushed hard down onto it, rubbing the substance in.

"Ow! Okay, I think it's done!" He yelped when she gave a particularly hard kneed into his leg with her knuckles.

She looked at him and grinned wickedly. "I know."

Everyone in this gosh darn stronghold was crazy, he swore.

Standing, Candy wiped her hands off on her pants. "Okay. Stay here until it's dried. That should be in a couple of hours."

"And what am I meant to do until then?"

She shrugged. "Beats me! Maybe read a comic book, count some sheep. Oh! You could sort all the fairy dust out into different shades of granules for me!"

Gideon leaned away from her, lying down on the bed.

"…I'll figure somethin' out," he muttered as she left the room. When the door closed behind her, he let out a heavy sigh.

Half of him was buzzing happily with the idea of his leg finally being healed up. Maybe with the ability to move around again, he might stand a better chance in his defense lessons with Dipper, though he supposed the training would change if he was able to walk and run properly.

The other half of him was angry, which…wasn't all that disconcerting because he was usually angry, but being left alone to his own thoughts wasn't helping him keep calm in the least. When he was alone he thought about his position, and by extension his position in the resistance, which made him think about Dipper, which in turn made him think about _Mabel_ , which made him think about _just when Dipper was planning on acting._

They couldn't just sit here and do _nothing,_ after all. Bill had never said much about what Mabel's bubble was like, if it was horrible or not, or just a suspension of reality stuck in time and space, but either way she couldn't just stay there forever!

Why Dipper Pines - who'd always dived head first (sometimes _literally_ ) into battle to save his sister - wasn't acting was beyond him. Surely he wasn't just leaving her in there? He had a plan, right? His…his _peach dumplin'_ was surely needing rescuing from Bill by now.

He punched the pillow under his head to release some pent up frustration, imagining it was both Dipper and Bill and Candy and even himself (though just a little, because he was definitely the least to blame for this crisis).

This whole thing was just ultimately frustrating. If only Dipper had been smarter as a kid, and he himself had been less naïve. If only Mabel had been less trusting, and Stanford Pines had been more of a dunderhead.

But, he supposed, 'if only' could only get a person so far. There was no point dwelling on things that he couldn't change.

His eyes fell down to stare at his leg, and he let out a very loud, very exasperated sigh.

He was really beginning to get sick of waiting.

* * *

When he'd drifted off, he didn't know, but he was jostled awake when he was unceremoniously smacked into a door frame.

"Ow! What the hell?" He squawked upon waking, blinking bleariness and pain from his eyes as stars swam through his vision.

"Heh. Sorry, Gideon," Dipper said, arm around Gideon's legs as he carried him over one shoulder. He didn't sound remotely apologetic.

"Where are we goin'?"

"My office."

"Your office?"

Dipper hummed in response, nodding his head.

He blinked blankly. "Okay. But why?"

"I want to know what you think of something."

Gideon's brows furrowed down, and he made to inquire further only to stop short when he realized that Dipper wasn't just gripping his leg – he was gripping his injured one.

Only, it didn't hurt anymore. In fact, it felt better and looser, and stronger than it probably ever had. He almost laughed!

 _Note to self: remember what Candy did. Steal some from the infirmary later._

His attention snapped back to where he was being carried when a door was kicked open and Dipper walked inside. He was unceremoniously dumped into a rickety chair in front of a thick, stained mahogany table.

His eyes traveled around the little office with a frown. It was small and dingy – definitely not up to his own standards. The wallpaper, patterned with what was probably once gray lines, was faded into more of a murky dirt color and had begun to peel from the walls. It was dark inside the room compared to the infirmary, and even though it was daylight the burning red sky did nothing to invoke a more pleasant atmosphere.

"Sorry about the bad lighting," Dipper said. "The bulb burst the other day and I don't see the point in wasting another in here until I go down and check the circuiting."

"Not ominous at all but okay…" His eyebrows rose as he noted the map on the desk. He didn't ignore the excitement that rushed through him when he spotted several circled areas, others crossed out, and even more with questions marks peppered all around the areas. One he noted that had been crossed out said something about a 'weird radio frequency' and 'glowing clouds'?

"Is this the part where you tell me where she is?" He asked.

"Okay...so I might have fibbed a little. We...we don't know for sure where she is," Dipper said with a false little laugh. Gideon felt his insides shrivel, just the slightest. "But we have a few ideas."

He stared at his leg, giving it a light pat to test it out. No pain. There was that, at least. He felt a righteous anger rising in the pit of his belly, and all he wanted to do was lash out at him, scream for letting him get his hopes up - and damn right he almost did.

The only thing that kept him sitting was the fact that Dipper would crush him in a heartbeat, so he settled with a scathing remark. "And here I was thinkin' you cared about her enough to tell me the truth. Clearly, it's just that you enjoy _fuckin'_ with me!" Gideon spoke nastily. He earned a hard cuff around the back of his head in response, a twist of fingers tugging at hair. and pulling, just enough to cause some discomfort.

"Do you want me to shove a gun down your throat?" Dipper half spat back at him.

"...not really."

"Then shut your goddamn mouth and listen to me." He flattened the map out a little more with one hand, pushing the sleeves of his jacket up, and pointing from one place to another. "These are the places where we think Mabel might be."

Gideon leaned over to look at the map, trying to promote a casual air surrounding him, but the smack of his hand down on the chart gave him away as he ran his eyes across the different locations marked in fat red ink. He recognized some of the names scribbled above them, like the pyramids, Stonehenge, Petra, Machu Picchu – and that one place he always confused with chicken, Chichen Itza.

Dipper began to roll the map up, out of sight. Gideon sat back upright in his chair, frowning hard.

"Candy and I thought and talked a lot about magical centers – y'know, places that had the potential to conduct a lot of magical energy," Dipper said.

"Which means what, exactly? There are probably better places for that sorta thing – ain't Gravity Falls better for that kinda thing?"

"Well, there are different types of magic. I'm assuming you've deduced that kind of thing already, what with being Bill's bitch for four years."

"Are you _tryin'_ to get a bite? You really are, aren't you?" Gideon spat out.

"It was a fine piece of alliteration."

Scowling, Gideon said, "Yes…I know about different types of magic."

"Right! Well, the magic Gravity Falls produces is what I call supernatural magic-"

"Veeeery original-"

"But supernatural magic," Dipper persisted as if he'd never spoken. "Being what breeds the weirdness and creatures within the town doesn't necessarily mean it is a _conduit_ magic. Certainly, it draws the stranger beings of our planet towards it."

"You've lost me."

Finally sitting down in his own seat behind the desk, Dipper rest his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers together. "Candy brought up the idea of a conduit – something that, for instance, transports water. But what if there was some kind of channel that transported _magic_?"

"…I would think it sounds totally absurd," Gideon stated blandly.

"It was a rhetorical question."

"…you're a rhetorical question."

To his credit, Dipper barely even rose his eyebrows, choosing to continue instead. "Anyway…we narrowed down different towns and historical sites, where there was the potential to be some sort of conduit, and then from that, we discussed how likely the probability Mabel would be in those places."

Gideon felt very confused, but also pleased. He was, after all, finally doing something. His leg was healed, he felt well rested, and he was being included in Dipper's plans. "So what do I have to do with your plans, then?"

The corner of Dipper's mouth jerked into a contorted sneer, before dropping. "Bill is…unpredictable-"

 _Rich, coming from you._

"-So I've no idea if we're even looking in the right places. For all I know, he could have put her somewhere completely different, like the freaking jungle."

"Or outer space."

"I don't even want to _consider_ that," he said with disgust tingling the back of his tongue.

Leaning back in his seat, and kicking his legs (he could say _legs_ again, oh joy!) up onto the edge of the desk, Gideon lifted his head to stare at the ceiling. As he thought, he could see the faint tick of stress at Dipper's twitching fingers from the corners of his eyes.

"I think…" He began. Dipper braced his arms hard against the table. For just a moment, he considered tearing him down, telling him that he _needed_ his help, that _he_ held all the answers to his questions so Dipper should listen to _him._ Instead, he gnawed at the bottom of his lip and said, "I think that Bill is an egotistical maniac and he'd want to put her in a place that seems powerful. With him runnin' the entire world, he needn't worry about someone comin' along and somehow freein' her. Even with me havin' the key – at least thinkin' I still do, anyway, he probably don't think I can do all that much." He looked back at Dipper squarely, watched the way the older teen's fingers laced between each other and tensed, the expression of cold decisiveness spread through his face.

"So yes…I think you're on the right track, at any rate. He's definitely conceited enough to consider one of them a point of interest."

"That's encouraging to know. Thank you, Gideon."

"It's not a problem. But you aren't seriously gonna go have a look at all these places, are you? How would you even do that?"

"I have people I can get on the case. Contacts I've made over the past four years. As for travel methods…" He trailed off, eyes glistening with a wicked sort of gleam. When the expression was wiped away, Dipper stood, moving to the door and pulling it open.

Gideon stared at his hand on the handle, then up at his face. He jerked his head out the doorway.

"Well, we're done here. Get out."

Tempted to argue only for a brief moment, Gideon stood. "Fine. But…but I better not have missed out on my lunchtime sandwich!"

"I'll make sure you're fed, your highness," Dipper quipped dryly, shoving Gideon out the door as soon as he was within arm's reach and slamming it shut behind him.

Gideon paused, turning to face the door as he heard a lock click into place.

"You're very difficult to get along with!" He hollered angrily at the door, slamming one fist against the door. Dipper didn't make any snide remarks, so with a frustrated shriek, he turned and marched away, making sure the stomping of his footsteps were loud with fury.

 _Sweet Suzie_ , he _really_ wished Dipper would stop this messing around!

But he could gripe about that later, when he was alone.

Right now…well, he just really wanted a sandwich.

* * *

 **Sorry this chapter is late! I've just finished it, and my beta reader was nice enough to run through it even though she's under the weather at the moment!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed it, and I can't wait to hear what you thought of the chapter!**

 **Until next time!**


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